Dreaming
by Dark Nemesis 7
Summary: Robin has strange dreams. Heavily hinted at Robin/Vlad.


Robin was dreaming.

He was in the middle of a wide expanse of wilderness, forest stretching for miles, dotted only by the rise and fall of the land, cliffs and streams. Green surrounded him, accented silver by the cool moonlight. He was walking alone – or so he thought.

The black cape he used to wear so much covered his leather coat, keeping him warm as he walked. Why was he here? He didn't know, or couldn't remember. But it was very important that he keep walking. The grass crinkled under his feet as he stepped on it. It was a beautiful night. The stars were twinkling. Not a cloud was in the half-moon's sky.

There. A crunch. Behind him. Where? Robin couldn't be certain. He was being chased! Fear shot through his body. In a flash, he was off like a deer through the deadly silent woodland, pounding through the thicket. All the times he'd been beaten up for being weird in elementary school ran through his head. Though he wasn't good at most physical activities, Robin could race the wind.

And yet it wasn't enough. He could hear a twig here, a swish there. He was just a fox, and the hound was on his heels. When he tumbled out of the brush into a clear spot amongst the trees, Robin knew it was over. Fearfully, he backed into the centre and watched for his pursuer.

The shadow of a cape lit from behind made a stark black spot in the dim grass. A vampire! Robin's heart sped up. For some reason, it seemed that the identity of his aggressor would be profound. This would be who he secretly wanted to be bitten by. Ingrid?

No. It was Vlad. The familiar dark hair he knew so well framed a face he would have recognized a mile away in any situation other than darkness. With a victorious grin on his face, the teenaged vampire stalked up to his frightened friend and reached an arm around his back, pulling him close.

A million thoughts whirled through Robin's mind at once. On one hand – the hand he usually went with when he was around the Count – he didn't want to be drained dry. On the other, he did want to be bitten. A lot. He'd read tales of the ecstasy known by those who had survived being drunk from. He'd heard that it was the best possible feeling ever, and he wanted to know that. With Vlad. And so he didn't fight to get away, but rather stayed, shaking, in the vampire's arms, and waited.

Vlad reached up and tilted Robin's head to the side with his right hand. The black-haired boy could feel his best friend incline his face until his lips brushed lightly against the youth's exposed neck. This caused him to inhale sharply as strange things stirred in his rapidly beating heart. He felt like prey too ensnared to even think of escape. As two smooth fangs touched his alabaster neck, he desperately tried to stop trembling, but he couldn't. As scared as he was that Vladimir would kill him, he was also afraid of the fact that he secretly wanted him to lose control and devour him down to the brink of survival.

Like a knife cuts butter, the blue-eyed vampire's fangs pierced into his veins. Robin stifled a gasp. It was unlike anything he'd ever imagined. It was better. He clutched at Vlad, pulling him as close as he could, entwining himself in the limbs of the Dracula heir. The masculine body against his, the claiming, the dominating, it was all too much to take and his legs gave out on him. Lost in the sensation of being drained, he didn't feel himself be lowered to the ground until his skull landed against it gently.

But it was too much. Robin was slipping away. He could feel his grip on the vampire begin to weaken and his trembling finally subside. He tried to struggle half-heartedly, but he was too far gone. He watched Vlad with worry, his body too still for anything else. Robin trusted him not to suck him dry, and now he was afraid that he would die.

And just when he thought he would surely drift unconscious for the last time, the pressure on his neck stopped, and he felt Vlad carefully pull away. The young Dracula wore a look that was at once the expression of a predator and the caring expression Robin was so used to. He picked up the frail body of the exhausted youth and held it close to himself, sharing the heat of Robin's former blood back with him. Robin laid his head against Vladimir's chest and summoned all his strength to drape an arm around his shoulders. The ecstasy from the bite was still buzzing in his system. "Vlad, I 'ave to tell you something," he murmured, summoning all his will to speak, to confess. "I..."

-----------------------------

Vlad shot up in bed. He'd been having that dream again, the one where he stalked Robin through a forest and claimed his prize at the end of it. The imaginary fire in his veins that he got from drinking Robin's blood faded away as he opened his eyes and lifted a hand to his head. He could never stay asleep past the part where he clutched the taller boy close and tried to tell him something. It was as though he himself couldn't admit yet whatever it was that he wanted to say. He had always assumed that he'd want to feed from girls like Chloe or even that Delilah girl from Valentine's day, but every time, it was Robin who he chased, Robin who finally succumbed and let himself be caught, trusting Vlad. The youth shook his head and fell back into his covers. It seemed like he was the only one to whom weird things like this ever happened.


End file.
